PRIDE AND JOY

Chapter One

June 1934

It was Saturday afternoon and Mary Harris and her best friend Liz were walking home from the biscuit factory in Rotherhithe where they worked. It was their half-day and, as ever, they were deep in conversation. As they neared the docks they could see a group of men laughing at a small figure sitting in the gutter. To Mary's horror, she realised that the object of their amusement was her four-year-old half-brother Eddie. She knew from the state of him that he'd been begging for food: he had jam in his hair and all round his face. The dockers were taking great delight in throwing him sandwiches, laughing when he missed catching the bread.
'Eddie!' shouted Mary. 'Come here!' As she started towards the boy, she saw her friend Liz turn and hurry away, obviously embarrassed by the situation.
Eddie just grinned at his sister, but when she started to get closer he got up and began to run on his stubby little legs. When she finally caught hold of him, to her shame, he spread himself on the ground and started screaming and pounding the pavement with his fists. Mary had to physically drag him to his feet.
'For Gawd sake, girl, leave the poor little sod alone,' yelled one man. 'Daft Eddie ain't hurting anyone.'
The other dockers joined in, urging Mary to leave Eddie be.
Finally she got a strong grip on Eddie's arm and they started to make their way home. As they struggled along, Mary's thoughts went back to four years ago. For the first two years after his arrival, Eddie had brought her family a great deal of happiness. With his big blue eyes, blond hair and funny little ways, he was idolised. He was a beautiful boy, but somehow he was different to other children his age. He was always behind them when it came to learning new things, and he never grasped how to talk. But he was a good-natured child and seemed happy in his own little world. Over the past two years or so Eddie had changed, and not for the better. He still didn't talk, although he'd learned the word 'no'. When he got frustrated he'd sit and bang his head, and he had terrible tantrums. The only peace her mother had found was during the few weeks that Eddie had been at school. But it didn't last long as the teachers had sent him home saying they couldn't control him. He had been naughty and he'd upset the other children with his shouting and strange noises. No one knew what to do with him when he was like that, and smacking him and locking him in the outside lavatory only made him worse.
After much pulling and shouting Mary finally got him home. 'Thank God you found him,' said her mother when Mary stepped into the passage. 'I've been worried sick as to where he'd got to. I've been running up and down the street looking for him. I even sent Sadie's kids out as well.'
'He was down at the docks.'
Sarah put her hand to her mouth. 'Oh no. Thank God he's safe.' Eddie was shouting.
'Shut up! Why is he so naughty?' asked Mary, who had lost all patience with Eddie after her ordeal.
'I only wish I knew.'
The shouting got louder.
'Please, Mum, make him stop,' pleaded Mary. 'You've got to.' 'How? Mary, I'm at my wits' end.'
Mary looked at her mother and felt full of guilt. She knew Eddie was driving his mother, as well as herself, to despair. She began to cry.
'Come along, love. That's not going to help,' said her mother. 'I'm sorry. Was I like this?'
Sarah smiled. 'No, love, you were the perfect baby.'
'I wish we could understand why he's this way.' Mary ran her hand under her nose.
'We will one day,' said her mother.
With tears running down her cheeks, Mary helped her mother as they battled to tie him in the chair. He was getting very strong and had begun to fight back; soon her mother wouldn't be able to control him.
'If Gran was here she'd soon make him behave,' said Mary, holding down Eddie's hands as he tried to hit out.
Mary had idolised her gran. They had lived in this house with her all Mary's life. She had never known her granddad, who had died before she was born, and she was only two when her father died. She didn't remember her dad but her mum said she'd inher- ited his dark hair and eyes. Her mother had had to go out to work and it had been Gran who had looked after her while Sarah wasn't there. Mary xemembered when her mother used to work in the shirt factory; she was a very good needlewoman and always made Mary's Shirley Temple-type frocks. They had all been very close.
But when Mary was eight her gran had died. The bottom had dropped out of Mary's world. The loss was something she never thought she would get over; the house seemed very empty without Gran. Then, a few years afterwards, her mother brought a man home.